


Broken Ice

by DareDreemer, TiBun



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Serious Injuries, Vikturi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:42:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DareDreemer/pseuds/DareDreemer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun
Summary: It was a new routine, and one that didn't have Yuri's heart in it, even with his future husband waiting for him on the sidelines like always. He had convinced himself that everything was fine, that he was just dealing with the usual nerves and anxiety before he took the ice. He was a silver medalist; what reason would he have to suspect that he was about to make a career-changing mistake?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We started writing this before Episode 11, and as such a few things do not line up with the canon ending. We discussed going back and changing some things but ultimately decided against doing so after episode 12 came out. So, for your general knowledge:  
> -Yuri still won only Silver at the GPF.  
> -Viktor did not return to the ice and is focusing solely on his coaching career.
> 
> Disclaimer: We do not own any recognizable characters. We only explore the possibilities.
> 
> Can also be read on: [DeviantArt](http://daredreemer.deviantart.com/art/Broken-Ice-Chapter-1-655248149)  
> 

_Cover Art by[JoJoFanart](http://jojofanart.deviantart.com/)_

He took a deep breath, his stomach fluttering with nervousness. It was nothing new. He often experienced at least some level of anxiety, and luckily, it wasn't too overwhelming this time as he slipped out onto the ice in his glittering outfit. Truthfully, he wasn't feeling his best, nerves and anxiety aside, but he hadn't bothered to mention it to anyone.

This was his first time skating this routine in front of an audience. After his silver success at the Grand Prix finals months earlier, Yuri Katsuki had been asked to skate a short performance for the opening of a play on ice that was being put on in America. It only made sense that he was just nervous, and over the course of the day, he'd convinced himself that was the extent of it; nerves.

He turned upon the ice with grace and faced his coach and fiancé, Viktor Nikiforov who was, as always, right there to support him. Yuri let out the breath he had been holding and leaned in as he reached out to pull Viktor closer, his usual demand upon his lips.

"Keep your eyes on me."

"When have I not had my eyes on you, Yuri?"

Leaning closer, the five time Grand Prix winner pressed his smirking lips to his ever so nervous lover, kissing him tenderly.

"Besides you'll do fine. Is not competition. Just remember to feel the music," he encouraged, smiling, as he righted himself. "You know this routine, Yuri. You can do it in your sleep."

Yuri pulled away once more and rounded the rink, sliding into his start position flawlessly. Then he closed his eyes and waited.

The first few notes of the song reached his ears and he began to move with the slow, sensual music, his arms and legs dancing across the ice in delicate movements. Then, as the music mounted, so did he; just in time to bring in the more complicated moves that were sure to impress.

It was a story, he was acting out, and not one his heart had found meaning in. He went through the motions, but his mind was a mess, despite the calm look upon his face. It wasn't love he was skating for—it was a battle. A battle that made his heart pound in more fear than anything else.

He slipped. The landing off-center and causing him to fall—but only for a split second before he had pushed himself back up and got himself back on track.

"Damn!" Viktor swore under his breath. "He's thinking too much. What's on your mind, Yuri? Whatever it is push it out of your head and shake the fall off."

It wasn't the first time Yuri had fallen on ice. In fact prior to the Grand Prix finals, Yuri often fell during competition. His nerves getting the best of him, but this was an exposition. Not a competition. Viktor knew the signs. Yuri was letting his thoughts get in the way of his performance. It was something they had been working on for months together. Tonight, however, Yuri's mind seemed muddled and all Viktor could do was watch.

The drums of war were mounting, as was Yuri's anxiety. Bells of warning ringing in his ears. He wasn't even hearing the actual music, anymore. But still he skated on, slipping up onto one leg, the other out as he spun before releasing. The twists and the turns having a dizzying affect on him as he continued to ignore what he knew wasn't feeling right.

Another mistake, another fall…

The routine was crumbling fast. The audience had quieted; something was wrong.

He was in the air again, the lights glinting off his skates' blades as he over-rotated and then landed, his ankle twisting painfully. His body pitched to the side with a full loss of control on the ice. And, too close to the edge of the rink, he hit the wall, his back giving off a loud snap and a cry ripping from his throat as he crumpled onto the ice—unmoving.

Everything was a blur of sound, light, and shadow as darkness threatened to close in around him.

This had to be a nightmare… this wasn't real.

All he could hear was a ringing in his ears, drowning out almost all other sounds.

_Viktor…_

"Yuri?!" Viktor cried out, watching his lover land feet away.

It was all a blur. One minute Yuri was spinning in the air and the next he was lying in a heap of satin and spandex like a broken doll. Afraid that he had broken his neck, Viktor was careful not to touch him though it pained him to refrain from doing so.

"Yuri, can you hear me?" he asked, kneeling, tears forming in his crystal blue eyes.

Uneasily, Yuri's rich brown eyes twitched towards the sound of Viktor's muffled, echo-y voice. He could barely make out an unsteady glimpse of silver hair before his eyes rolled back and his whole world went dark.

The medics arrived quickly with a stretcher, as the crowd murmured amongst themselves, wondering what had caused such an accident, and wondering if the skater would be okay.

"Was he not feeling well?"

"He hit that wall really hard…"

"Was the ice soft or cracked?"

The questions kept on filling the rink.

"Yuri, please open your eyes," Viktor whispered watching over one of the medic's shoulder as they continued to check over his body before all too carefully hoisting him onto the stretcher.

Unable to resist any longer he dashed forward and carefully took Yuri's hand into his own. The lights from above glinting off the band of gold on his right index finger.

"Please open your eyes, Yuri," he repeated softly. "I need you to open your eyes."

"I'm sorry; please give us space to transport him to the doors where an ambulance is soon to be waiting." One of the medics regretfully shooed the Russian away, "If you are able to stay out of the way, I'm sure you'll be allowed to ride in the ambulance with him."

"Of course," Viktor replied, though he thought the medics seemed a bit rude. This was his lover after all, and his protégé. Swallowing his desire to box a few ears, he picked up his heels and followed the medics down the hall and out of the building where the flashing red light of an ambulance met them. Carefully, Yuri's lifeless body was loaded into the back of the big red bus. The driver nodding for Viktor to jump inside before closing the doors behind him.

Silver lashes, dampened from the tears Viktor was struggling to keep at bay, blinked as he settled into the seat across from Yuri.

"May, I hold his hand now?" he asked, gingerly. His eyes never leaving Yuri's face.

The medic nodded and motioned for him to sit more near Yuri's head where he was mostly out of the way as they sped the short distance to the hospital.

"Yuri," Viktor whispered, leaning forward. "Is not funny, Yuri. You going and skating like that, getting hurt. You got to open your eyes. I need you to tell me what happened. You hear me? Yuri? Open your eyes."

Yet Yuri remained silent and unmoving. His breaths shallow. His face so serene that if it were not for his chest rising and falling one might think he had passed on. The thought sent shivers down Viktor's spine. Since moving from Russia to Japan, Yuri had become his world. His reason for living. Viktor could no longer imagine a world without Yuri in it. He was precious to him. A beacon of love and life that had eluded Viktor for most of his life. Yuri made the world beautiful and exciting. Alluring.

"Yuri...please," he pleaded once more as he kissed his beloved's chilled knuckles.

Slowly he closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer; a single tear slipping free.

 

* * *

 

Once the ambulance arrived at the hospital's emergency entrance, Yuri was wheeled away quickly, leaving Viktor stuck in the waiting room where a nurse forced him to stop, insisting that he could not accompany his fiancé any further, and that he had to simply sit down (or pace a hole in the tile floor) and wait out the excruciating minutes until the doctor sent out word to him on Yuri's condition.

It was nearly two hours before the doors finally opened and a doctor entered the waiting room, glancing around. It was easy for him to spot his target as Viktor was the only one in the waiting room aside from a few nurses and orderlies. The press had tried to get in when word of the accident had gotten out, but the staff had been quick to chase them off. Likely they were probably waiting in the parking lot for their chance to swoop in like vultures again to peck at the story.

The doctor nodded at Viktor as he approached, "You are the fiancé, yes?"

"Yes."

Replying to the question, Viktor scrambled from his seat. His heart pounding with fear. The look on the Doctor's face...

 _Something is wrong_.

"Yes, I'm Viktor Nikiforov."

The doctor held up his hand to calm the man before he started demanding that he speak up faster, "I have some good news, and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"

Viktor paused for a moment. Good news or bad news? What would he like to hear first? A worried expression pained his face as he looked intently at the doctor.

"I suppose is better to hear bad news first."

The doctor nodded, "Mr. Katsuki has suffered a number of injuries. Namely, he has a severely twisted ankle, a minor head concussion, and…" The doctor paused, now that it was upon his tongue, he felt that the good news would be best in leading the next bit of information. "…Well, the good news is that he has a high chance of walking again with time and the proper care, but his x-rays did show that his back has been broken. Luckily, we did not have to operate to realign or replace anything."

The rush of words flowing into Viktor's head was a mush of information. His ears picking up on words here and there. Nothing making sense.

"What you mean 'walk again'? Is Yuri," Viktor forced a smile on his face. "A broken ankle is....nothing-wait, is not what you say?"

The smile slowly fell from his face, replaced with puzzlement.

"I hear you wrong, I think. Please tell me again what you... I think you say Yuri has a broken back, but is can't be right. Right?" he asked, his brows rising hopefully.

"Yes, he has a broken back. It'll take about ten weeks before it heals. We fit him with a back brace and have prescribed him some pain killers for when he wakes up."

The doctor confirming his greatest fear, Viktor stumbled back and collapsed in his chair.

"Is not possible," he breathed wide eyed and in shock. "Not Yuri."

Daring to ask, he looked back up at the doctor. "Will he ever skate...again?"

The doctor was quiet for a long moment, "I think, he needs to concentrate on setting foot on land before he sets foot on the ice. He has a long way to go. First we are simply waiting for him to wake back up."

"Yes, yes. You are right," Viktor agreed. "May I see him...now?"

A nod granted him permission, "But when he awakens, please do not excite him. He needs to be kept calm. We don't want him hurting himself worse." He advised before calling an orderly over and instructed him to show Viktor to Yuri's room.

"Thank you," he smiled and shook the Doctor's hand. "I understand."

Turning, he followed the orderly down the hall and to the elevators. The ride to the fifth floor was painfully silent. The events of the night replaying over in his head.

_Yuri, what happened to you out there? I've never seen you skate so scattered before. Is not like you to be so careless._

 

* * *

* * *

 

 _New York_ _, upper Manhattan. In a hotel room on the 21st floor. Blissfully Viktor lay sleeping until the clock radio on the night stand next to the bed woke him abruptly; with it's never ending 'beep'. Desperate to shut the annoying sound off, he rolled over and blindly slammed his hand down upon the off button._

_"Y-uri?" he yawned rubbing his eyes. "Is time to wake up."_

_Opening his eyes, slowly, Viktor discovered that Yuri wasn't lying in the bed next to him and oddly the bed felt rather cold. As if no one had slept there all night. Still under sleep's spell, his eyes languidly roamed over the room, searching. It wasn't until his eyes came to the window that he found his missing lover sitting on the settee. Head leaning on the glass._

_"Yuri? What are you doing over there?" he called out throwing the blankets back. The crisp morning air tickling his naked body._

_Starting from the chill he snatched up the bathrobe left draped across the foot of the bed, wrapping himself in its warm softness._

_"Watching the morning colors." Yuri's almost bored voice spoke after a moment's pause, but his answer seemed off as he seemed to stare out blankly at nothing rather than soaking in the brilliant reds and oranges painting the sky beyond the skyscrapers._

_Raising a brow at the strange response, Viktor gently prodded. "Yuri, have you not slept all night? Have you sat the entire night in that vindow?"_

_"I slept." Came the short response, no explanation as to how long to be heard._

_"Where? On the Settee?"_

_Cautiously Viktor knelt down in front of him._

_"Tell me. You've not slept much last night, have you?"_

_"I was on the bed; I just got up before the alarm, that's all." Yuri turned to look at Viktor, "I got enough sleep."_

_Sighing, "Yuri, I know you are not telling me the truth. The bed is cold and your eyes... You have bags under your eyes. Will you not tell me what is wrong?"_

_"Really, I'm fine!" Yuri smiled, reaching out to take Viktor's hand, their golden rings lightly tapping against each other. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I'm still not confident with the routine…"_

_"Come." Viktor stood, offering his hand. "Let's go back to bed. We have hours till we have to be at the venue. You need more rest and we can go over the routine before the show once more."_

_"You just woke up, Viktor… why don't you order some breakfast?" Yuri said, trying to avoid the bed. He knew what'd happen. It had before when he hadn't much sleep. Viktor would fall asleep quickly atop him, leaving him pinned and wide awake still._

_"Nonsense. I'm more tired than hungry. And besides...I am your coach, Yuri. I know what is best for my student. You will listen to your coach, dah?"_

_A cheesy smile painted his face._

_Yuri sighed, leaning forward and resting his head against Viktor, his arms moving around his legs in a loose hug, "I'm not sure I'll get much more sleep."_

_The cheesy smile evaporated, replaced by a more softer expression. Despite his concern, Viktor decided not to push nor prod further. Instead he ran his fingers through Yuri's soft, raven-black hair._

_"At the very least you can try," he whispered._

_"…'kay…" Yuri closed his eyes a moment before letting his future husband pull him to his feet and guide him back to the bed._

* * *

* * *

 

The ding announcing the elevator had reached its destination, sliced through the reverie, bringing Viktor back to the present. He looked up at the floor indicator briefly before taking a deep breath and stepping out as the doors slid open; the orderly still leading the way.

With what seemed like an endless tunnel of white, he glanced side to side as they passed room after room until finally the orderly stopped. Viktor looked at the wood paneled door nervously. Yuri was just on the other side, unconscious.

"This is the room?" he asked to be sure.

"It is. There is a call button at the head of the bed to push should something happen. A nurse will rush in if you push it," the orderly explained as he opened the door for the Russian coach.

"Thank you. I appreciate you showing me the way."

The room's silence was only broken by the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Yuri lay as still as the dead upon the bed, his face nearly as pale as the white pillow cases propping his head up. Under his thin hospital gown, Viktor could see evidence of a hard, plastic brace wrapping his torso to keep his spine in place for healing.

Yuri was breathing on his own, however, though it seemed a little pained as Viktor became aware of a quiet, ragged gasp sounding every once in a while.

"Yuri, it is me. Viktor," he softly said as he leaned over his sleeping beauty. "They finally allowed me to come see you, and you are sleeping?"

Gingerly he reached out and brushed his fingertips over Yuri's cheek.

"Look at you. Even in sleep you look like you are concentrating too hard," he chuckled. "Don't you want to see me, Yuri? All you need to do is wake up and look at me."

Silence stretched on, offering up no response to Viktor. Then, as if it was a very delayed reaction, Yuri's head twitched very slightly. The movement so small it wouldn't have been noticed at all if it hadn't been for the lock of dark hair that fell into his face.

"Yuri! You twitched!" Viktor sang wide eyed. The ever so slight movement not escaping his attention.

"Come on Yuri. Do it again. Though open your eyes this time," he encouraged, brushing back the misplaced hair from Yuri's face. "We have lots to talk about and we need to get back to Makkachin too. He loves you as much as I do and he will be sad if we don't return to Japan soon. You want to see him as well, don't you? Of course you do. So open your eyes, my heart."

Instead of a response from Yuri, he got one from the doorway. An orderly sticking her head inside after knocking on the frame, an extra blanket in hand. "I was told you have been granted permission to stay through the night should you choose to sit by your future husband's side. I know sleep will not come easy, but if you need to lay down, here's a blanket for you. You can use the spare bed on the other side of the curtain."

Viktor looked up, startled by the sudden presence of another being. His silver bangs swaying with the motion as he glanced towards the vacant bed and then back at the orderly.

"Thank you," he smiled.

She smiled back and moved to set the blanket at the foot of the extra bed. "Try to get some rest. He probably won't wake up until morning, himself." She encouraged him before closing the door behind her as she left.

"I don't think I can sleep," he whispered to himself.

His eyes softly glanced down at Yuri's right hand. The ring he had placed there...missing. Not knowing what had been done with the precious band of gold, Viktor turned on his heel. Frantically he ran, skidding into the door and then yanking it open.

"Miss?!" he hollered as he tumbled into the hallway. "Stop! Please!"

Breathing erratically. His heart racing. His face distressed. Viktor approached the woman.

"Where is it?" he asked, huffing and puffing.

The young woman blinked, "Where is what?"

"He had a gold band on his right ring finger when he was brought in," he replied. "Please, I must know where it is. Is very important ring."

"It'll be with the rest of his personal effects, which should have been placed in one of the drawers in his room. Check there."

"Oh thank goodness," he sighed in relief. "I was afraid it might be lost. It is very special. He'd be terribly upset if anything were to happen to it. Thank you, again."

She nodded, "They likely had to remove it while treating him when he first came in. The doctor may have feared that there would be swelling and the ring could be a problem. They probably placed it in a bag so it wouldn't be lost. Maybe even put the bag in his ice skates he came in with. Sometimes things like jewelry gets stuffed in shoes for safe keeping."

"Yes. I'll check...like you said to. You've been most helpful. I wish you a goodnight then." He smiled and turned back to the room.

Once back inside Yuri's hospital room, Viktor quickly moved round to the other side of his bed and started with the top drawer of the bedside table.

No ring.

Next the bottom drawer, but the ring was not there either. His eyes darted from side to side, until he noticed the closet.

"Are your skates, perhaps, in there?" he questioned as he moved to what he considered the subpar closet.

Holding his breath he opened the first door. At the very bottom sat Yuri's skates. A few scratches had been added to the newly polished leather, but that was least important. The scuffs could be easily buffed out later.

Grabbing the first skate, Viktor tore open the laces and looked inside.

Empty.

"The other one then, dah?"

Sure enough, just as the orderly had said, in a tiny zip-locked bag, sat the ring.

"Found you," he smiled, relieved. "You'll be staying with me till Yuri wakes up and I can place you back on his finger."

Happy to have found the symbol of their love for each other, Viktor slipped the ring from the bag and into his pocket.

"…ik…tr…" Yuri's pained and weak voice barely uttered the sounds that were vaguely reminiscent of Viktor's name. His head rolling to the side, though his eyes didn't yet open. It seemed more as if he were stuck in a dream than actually calling for his lover. But the small sounds spoke volumes. Yuri was thinking about Viktor, and he remembered him.

"Yuri?" Viktor held his breath, listening.

He had been in the process of closing the door to the closet when he could have sworn he heard someone call his name. Yuri? Afraid to turn around and discover it was all in head, he stood frozen in place, carefully listening. He was hoping he would hear the sound again. The sound of his lover's voice...calling out his name again.

Silence, only Yuri's pained breathing could be heard from his parted lips.

Hearing nothing more, he let out a disappointed sigh and resumed closing the closet door. With a heavy heart he lumbered over to the chair next to Yuri's bed and plopped down in it. It had all been his imagination. Yuri was still unconscious and Viktor was beside himself.

"Yuri. I had hoped...maybe, but—" He shook his head and then closed his eyes as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. "Yuri, come back to me...please."

* * *

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

The room had darkened as the sun set, rays of light replaced by a sliver of a moon and twinkling stars above sparse clouds. Yet Viktor stayed up, burning the midnight oil in hopes that his Yuri would awaken and call out for him.

A few times during the night, a nurse had checked in on Yuri, and on one of her later rounds she had found Viktor had finally fallen into a light doze in his bedside chair. She quietly did as she needed before placing the spare blanket on the man's shoulders and turning off the light as she left. The poor man needed his rest, and she was glad to see he was getting some, even if it wasn’t much.

Finally, the sun began to rise and filled the room with soft orange rays of light again. It was only then when Yuri showed further sign of life. A groan of pain escaping his lips before they parted in a gasp.

"Huh...'uri? d...id you say 'omethin'," Viktor asked still half asleep.

Yuri only groaned again, this time turning his head as he forced his eyes open, however briefly. "Vikt-or…don't—t leave…"

"никогда...Yur-i," he whispered back. Instinctively his hand reached out, searching for Yuri's. "Is not...'ossible."

"Hurts…"

"Wha-t hurts, Yuri?" Viktor yawned. His eyes slowly drifting open, but unable to focus. Still entrapped in sleep's embrace, the former Russian skater had yet to fully awake and realize where he was. Where Yuri was. His exhaustion robbing him of the previous night's events. Here he lay. His head pressed upon the white sheets next to Yuri's broken body; their hands intertwined. He had forgotten that they were currently in a hospital. That things had gone terribly wrong.

"I can't move… Viktor…" Yuri's voice seemed to grow panicked.

Taking a deep breath, Viktor forced his eyes open. Yuri's form painfully coming into focus. In the blink of an eye everything came rushing back like a tidal wave.

He jumped out of his seat. The chair crashed with a loud thud behind him. Overjoyed he carefully laid his head on Yuri's chest, hugging him as best as he could without causing any further harm.

"Yuri! You're awake! Thank God! I thought you would never wake up!"

"What…happened?" Yuri's tearful eyes slowly opened all the way, a confused look on his face as he took in his surroundings. He definitely wasn't in the hotel, and…was that medical equipment?

"Umm..." Viktor straightened and looked down at his fiancé. How was he going to tell him that he had broken his back? That there was a possibility he might not skate ever again. The look on Viktor's face was that of a man torn. It was anguish and heartache. He wasn't even sure he could utter the words. Tears began to gather in his eyes as he picked up Yuri's right hand and brought it to his lips.

"There's been an accident, Yuri. Do you remember what happened at the show last night?"

Yuri frowned, trying to think through his pain. "I remember going out onto the ice…to begin and then…" he paused, "And then I'm here…in pain…I can barely think, it hurts..."

"Shh...is alright," Viktor soothed. He placed another kiss to Yuri's knuckles before continuing. "You were performing, but your mind was someplace else. You fell a couple of times. Your last jump though...you hit the wall, Yuri. Hard. Is why you are in hospital. You lost consciousness."

Yuri closed his eyes, a few tears of pain escaping and rolling down his temples into his hair. "…How…hard?"

"Hard," Viktor replied. "Yuri, is not good. When you landed before crashing into the wall, you twisted your ankle. Apparently you hit your head, so you have concussion. And..."

Fighting the urge to cry, Viktor closed his eyes. This was the hard part. How in the world was he suppose to tell him. Unbeknownst his grip tightened around Yuri's hand.

"Yuri...I don't know how to tell you this next part. I don't know if I can."

"Viktor…I have twisted my ankle and hit my head before. It's a part of learning to skate. But this…hurts more."

Bit by bit he opened his eyes and peered back down at Yuri. There was no fighting the tears. One by one they began to fall, splattering his shirt like rain drops.

"Your back, Yuri," he sniffled, "It was broken when you hit the wall."

Yuri seemed to stiffen (painfully), his eyes going wide. "No…no!"

"Yuri...shh...look at me," Viktor smiled. His eyes full of compassion. He reached down and delicately brushed away the hair from Yuri's face. "We'll get through this," he vowed, pressing their foreheads together. "I promise."

"…But what if I…never skate again? What if I never even walk again? Viktor…" Yuri's fingers twitched as they held his lover's hand tighter, "…what if this is the end of everything?"

"Not possible."

"Viktor…this is a career-ending…people can be paralyzed by…I want to skate with you again…skate _for_ you again."

"You're not paralyzed. The bones do need time to heal and you will have to learn to walk again, yes. But I will be there with you, Yuri. Every step of the way. You'll skate again. You'll see. I have faith that you will."

Yuri bit his lip, saying nothing as he took everything in. Just how many times had he thought to himself that he should retire? That he should let Viktor go free in the world of ice skating without being held down? He truly loved the Russian, but he just wanted what was best for him, and if his fate was this…who was he to hold Viktor back for months—even years in the hopes that he might return to the ice, himself.

"Yuri, what are you thinking? You look like your mind is running a marathon. Talk to me. Tell me what is going on inside that head of yours."

"You won't like it if I tell you…" Yuri whispered.

"How do you know, if you do not tell me?"

Yuri closed his eyes a moment, taking in a slow, deep breath, "Because you never do like it…"

"Tch...Yuri, you better not be thinking what I think you are thinking," Viktor narrowed his eyes, but softened them when he met Yuri's gaze. "I don't want to return to the ice yet, Yuri. I'm happy...here...with you. Why can you not believe that?"

"Because now...things have changed. It's not just a failed performance this time… It's not too late for you to return…to skate again… I can support _you_ from the sidelines this time…"

"Yuri, I left skating as a competitor, because I wasn't happy doing that anymore. My passion was gone. You gave me a new purpose. A new passion."

"And now I'm broken." Tears started welling up fast in his eyes, "So that passion is broken, and…and…It's all my fault!"

"No! Is not true! You are not broken and it was not your fault. It was accident. It could have happened to anyone. Your life is not over, Yuri. Nor is your career."

Heartbroken for his lover, Viktor took Yuri's hands and brought them to his lips. How was he to get through? To convince Yuri he was happy and wanted to stay with him. Viktor had never been good with dealing with tears. He knew if he wasn't careful he'd only make things worse.

"I am your coach and your lover. I refuse to be dismissed, Yuri. I have given you everything that I am and will be. Even if I walked out of this room...right now. I would not return to the ice. That part of my life is over. I'll only step out on the ice if it is with you."

Viktor held his breath waiting and watching. Sometimes a stern hand was what was needed. Perhaps that would snap Yuri out of his fit. Viktor could only hope so. Either way, he wasn't leaving. He just wanted Yuri to stop crying and believe him. Trust him.

"Look…at me…" Yuri hiccupped painfully, "What chance have I left? This isn't picking up a skater ready to give up. Love and coaching can't fix me this time…You deserve more…always have…"

"Why do you say such things, Yuri? Have you never once considered what I want? What I need? What I saw in you? Why I want to stay?" Viktor shook his head. He was hurt by how easily Yuri was trying to push him away. He knew Yuri was frightened, in shock and in pain, but now was not the time to be arguing. Now was the time they needed one another the most. "Why do you not believe in me? In us? In yourself?"

"Of course I do… But I…I'm not pushing you away! You—you have my ring, and I have…yours?" he looked down at his hand in Viktor's, not seeing the glint of gold that was supposed to be there.

"It's safe. I have it right here in my pocket," Viktor explained, touching his pant pocket. "I made sure to get it immediately. I was afraid it might go missing. And yes you are when you say such gibberish. I want to be by your side on and off the ice, Yuri. I love coaching you. Please, Yuri. Believe me. Stop with this nonsense about me returning to the ice as a competitor."

Yuri's eyes lingered on his bare finger, though he did hear what Viktor had told him. It just felt so…naked without the ring. It didn't feel right, it felt lonely and cold.

 _Don't leave_.

He had said that when waking up, hadn't he? In his dream; begging Viktor not to leave him behind. Some part of him had known something bad had happened…

"Yuri, did you hear me?" Viktor inquired when Yuri didn't respond.

Yuri looked up at him, a mix of emotions running through him. He took a shaky breath and finally spoke the biggest thing on his mind, though he already knew how Viktor would respond.

"Don't leave."

Saying nothing in return, Viktor bent further. His lips hovering over Yuri's. His eyes conveying his thoughts. He wouldn't leave Yuri, _ever_. He had made his choice months ago. This is where he belonged; on and off the ice. He wanted to see Yuri fulfill his dreams. Become the skater he had always dreamt of being. The thought sent a new thrill through Viktor. He smiled longingly before delicately pressing their lips together.

"Ya tebya lyublyu...Yuri."

Yuri reached up with one hand, his fingertips lightly touching Viktor's jawline ever so tenderly. "I want to dance with you at our wedding more than anything—sober."

Unable to contain himself, Viktor chuckled. The statement so innocent to him.

"And you will," he replied kissing Yuri more hungrily.

"Ahh—gentle! Excitement is hurting my back."

"Oh! Sorry, Yuri. I did not mean to get so excited." Viktor apologized, red cheeked.

"Are you two done having a moment?" a nurse smirked from the doorway, "I need to check a few things and give him his next dose of pain killers."

Viktor's blush deepened. He had been caught nearly ravishing his fiancé in a hospital bed. Normally these things wouldn't faze him, but this was a hospital and Yuri was injured. What had started out as a tender moment had quickly evolved into something more primal, and there watching was a nurse.

He excused himself with a nod and ambled over to the window. He glanced over his shoulder momentarily at Yuri and the nurse before peeking out through the blinds. His eyes wandering over the landscape below. A little boy was rolling on the grass with what Viktor assumed was his dad. It was a charming scene, but one that evoked a sense of loss in his heart.

The nurse entered, getting right to work and jotting down notes as she asked Yuri questions, examined his injuries, and tested the feeling in his feet and legs to make sure the doctor's verdict the day before was accurate. So far, so good, though she had to reassure Yuri that he would regain feeling in his feet after he felt nothing there, explaining while his spinal cord had taken damage, he would very likely make a full recovery. She then injected him with another dose of pain killers and left with a promise that breakfast would be arriving soon.

"Yuri, when you were little, did you spend time with your father? Like do things together?" Viktor asked turning back. "I'm curious."

"Hmm?" Yuri turned his head to look at Viktor, "Yeah, of course I did. Why?"

"Nothing. I just..." Rubbing the back of his neck, Viktor walked back over to the bed and resumed his seat next to it. "Is stupid question. Forget I asked. I don't know what I was thinking," he smiled.

"No, tell me. I'm stuck here, anyway." He reached out to touch Viktor's hand.

"It's nothing....I was just watching a father and son on the grass outside. I was curious about your relationship with your father, is all," he chuckled a bit nervously. "It's good you spend time with him."

"Well, not so much in recent years… I only got to talk to them on the phone until right before you showed up announcing you would coach me. I was just so busy with my skating I was never able to go home. But when I was a kid we spent loads of time together. Mom, too."

"That's good. I'm glad you have your parents, Yuri."

"What about you?" Yuri asked. As it struck him; Viktor never spoke of his family. They were engaged and he'd never even met his future in-laws. "What are your parents like?"

He hadn't brought up the subject in all the months they were together. Not because he didn't want to, but just because he had been alone for so long it never occurred to him to mention his parents or what happened. Seeing the little boy outside, his gleeful, careful smile as his father laughed alongside him, made the suppressed emotions rise like the tide inside his heart. He couldn't remember ever playing with his father or being tucked in bed by his mother. The normal acts of love a parent gave their child. Most of his life he had been raised by Yakov at the conservatory. Always on the ice from a young age. It was all he had ever known. His parents had become nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

"I never really knew them," he replied. "I was very young when I was taken to conservatory in Saint Petersburg. I barely remember their faces now."

Yuri blinked, "What?" he couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea, "Didn't they ever visit you? Or come see you skate? Or write you letters and call you on the phone?"

"They never saw me skate in competition, no. I was five when I moved to Saint Petersburg and placed under Yakov's care. I never saw them again. They died not two years later in an accident. Yakov became my teacher. My coach. My guardian. He raised me, but he was no father figure. I went only once to their graves. The day of their funeral. I have not returned since."

Yuri was quiet for a long moment, "…You should visit them again. I'm sure they are lonely…" he squeezed Viktor's hand and gave a small supportive smile, "You have lots to tell them, and I'd like to meet my future in-laws."

"Not possible. I don't remember where they were buried. I don't even have photographs of them. After the funeral I never spoke of them again...until now."

"Someone must know… What about Yakov?"

"I've not visited them in twenty years. Is in the past, Yuri," he looked up and smiled. "You are my family now. Is all I need."

"I just…can't imagine it…" Yuri sighed, shaking his head.

"Because you have one...a family, Yuri," Viktor chuckled. "And they are very kind. I appreciated them allowing me to come into your home so unexpected."

"They were kind of star-struck…so was I, really…" Yuri admitted.

"It comes with the territory. You though...you treat me like real person, not just a celebrity. I deeply appreciate that, Yuri. Is refreshing. Is one of the reasons why I fell in love with you. You see me. Not just the persona."

"Viktor, I—" Yuri was interrupted suddenly by the flash of a camera, and he froze, daring not to look at the doorway where a reporter had somehow found his way to.

Viktor's eyes darted to the door. Another flash.

"What are you doing? How did you get back here?' he shouted jumping up.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I have to report on this story—fans around the world are in need of knowing  Yuri Katsuki's condition after his accident on the ice last evening."

Stepping around the bed Viktor attempted to protect Yuri from anymore unauthorized pictures. He knew the damage had probably already been done, but it was his instinct to get between the two.

"There's to be a press conference later today. You're not allowed to be here. You must go. No more pictures."

"Just a few questions, then?" the reporter asked, letting his camera hang about his neck as he pulled out a pen and paper.

Viktor shook his head and sighed.

"I just said there is to be a press conference later. We have no comment at this time." Calmly he approached the reporter and forced a smile on his face. "Please respect our privacy and we will answer all your questions at the conference. Okay?"

"But you don't understand! If I print the story first—it'd be my big break in sports writing!"

While the reporter was busy talking, Viktor slipped his arm around the man's shoulders. Slowly he turned him around, leading him out of the room and into the hallway.

"I apologize that you won't be getting your big break at this time, but if you leave now, I'll make sure all your questions are answered above all the other reporters." He smiled more brightly. "Please have a good day."

With that Viktor dashed back into the room and slammed the door shut. He leaned back against it, letting out a sigh of relief before searching with his fingers for the lock.

"I think locking the doctors out would be a bad idea." Yuri said, speaking for the first time since they realized they were being watched.

"When they come, I'll let them in. But for now...privacy," he replied walking back over to the bed.

Yuri nodded and sighed, "I wish I could sit up. The pain is dulling, but I feel off laying here like this, unable to move."

"I know, Yuri," Viktor whispered. He took Yuri's right hand and placed another kiss to his knuckles. "I wish I could do something more. I feel so helpless. I wish it was I who broke my back instead of you."

"Don't say that! I'd hate to see you in my position!"

"But you'd still be able to skate the rest of this season. Not stuck in a hospital bed. I don't have to walk to coach you....to watch you."

"As if I could put my heart into skating knowing my heart was broken and in pain…"

"Yuri...should be skating. Not lying here. I'm old," Viktor chuckled. "I've had my glory as a skater. Now I have you and I want you to have your glory."

"You are not old. You are only a few years older than me." Yuri insisted.

"I'm older and wiser."

"You skate better, too."

"Yuri," Viktor tsked, "You need to have more confidence. You are a beautiful skater. I cannot take my eyes off you when you skate."

"I'm not saying anything about my skills!" Yuri insisted, "The first time I saw you skate…I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, either."

Realizing he was not going to get anywhere, Viktor left off a little sigh and let go of Yuri's hand; reclaiming his seat.

"The press conference. I will have to speak on the incident. What would you like me to say? Or not say? Do you want me to tell then the whole truth? Is up to you."

Yuri looked down in thought, "I don't really know…I have never thought about what I'd do if I got seriously injured." He sighed, "But they need to know that I am out for the season or more… I just don't know what details should go public and which ones should stay private for our family and friends, only…"

"Your family has been notified of your condition. I made sure of that. I suppose telling the press of your condition is...well no getting around it. And that you will be out this season. We don't need to speak of the future. Is there a message you'd like me to give your fans on your behalf, Yuri?"

Yuri thought on the question before shaking his head, "No, I think…that once I'm able to, I should make such a statement myself. Right now I'm not so sure if I'll recover—career-wise. But later I may have the same hope you have in me, so I'll have something much more positive to say."

"Alright," Viktor replied, "I'll stick to the facts and keep it simple. I do not want to be away from you too long when it is time. Will you watch on the television?"

"It's live?" Yuri blinked in surprise.

"Yes, is suppose to be live. There is a lot of people worried about you, Yuri. There were a lot of people present at the event and it was being filmed for later broadcast on national television here and around the world. They want to know what happened to the current Grand Prix silver medalist."

Yuri groaned, hiding his face in his arm. The whole world must have seen his horrible performance by now.

"…Viktor…how bad was I yesterday?"

"What do you mean, how bad were you?"

"My performance… the accident…how bad did it look?"

"The performance started out good, but you let your thoughts get in the way. It showed on your face. Is why you fell," Viktor sighed truthfully. "You hit the wall in front of me. I heard your body hit the ice and then the wall. I can't say how it looked to everyone else. I wouldn't know how bad it looked to the whole of the center, so I cannot answer that. But you don't need to focus on that, Yuri. Is done. You can't change what happened. Only learn from it."

Yuri's arm shifted enough for him to look up at Viktor with only one eye, "I don't even remember…my thoughts on the ice…"

"Is to be expected. You have a concussion. Memory lost is not uncommon side effect."

"Viktor…" He uncovered his face and reached out to him, "I want to see the performance."

"No." Viktor protested.

"Please." Yuri insisted, grabbing his future husband's sleeve. "I need to know."

"You don't need to see it, Yuri. It would do no good. You'd only dwell on it."

"That'd be better than imagining the worst!"

"Yuri." Viktor's tone growing more authoritative. "No. Not now. Besides the footage would not be available at this time. Perhaps down the road...when you've recovered. But now...is not good idea. Don't think about the accident. Think about getting better."

"Wouldn't my first step to getting better be facing what put me in this bed to begin with? And if you're right about it being filmed, it's probably all over the internet and news right now."

The sound of a gentle knock interjected Viktor before he could counter his lover.

Most likely the footage would be everywhere by now, but knowing the way Yuri tended to respond to bad news, Viktor felt it would be best if he avoided seeing it. At least until his mindset was in a better place, but hearing the voice of an orderly just outside the room, gave Viktor the moment he needed to collect himself before things between himself and Yuri got heated. His patience was beginning to grow thin and he welcomed the distraction.

"Just a moment," he hollered as he put on his debonair smile and turned to go unlock the door.

Yuri sighed as he watched Viktor dance around the issue to avoid it. "Don't think this is over, Viktor."

"Hello and good morning," Viktor greeted the orderly. "Please come in. Mmm... smells good."

She blushed and hurried in, setting the trey of covered food down on the rolling table, setting up the breakfast for two before rolling it over to Yuri's bed. She then carefully helped use pillows to prop Yuri up a little more so he could eat more easily.

"Is there anything else you need before I leave?"

"If possible...is there anyway you might be able to get me a cup of coffee?" Viktor asked before looking at the patient. "What about you, Yuri? Anything else?"

"Yes! Right away!" She smiled; hurrying out after Yuri shook his head.

"…I sense a fan in that one." Yuri chuckled.

"Perhaps," Viktor replied, removing the lid off Yuri's breakfast plate. "On the other hand she could just be overwhelmed with having to take care of two well known ice skaters. What is it the Americans say? ...Startruck? Either way, she seems harmless."

"Maybe." Yuri sighed and picked up a fork, using it to gather a few potatoes from the plate Viktor uncovered. "Sit down, enjoy this meal with me."

Viktor nodded and sat on the edge of the foot of the bed.

"So it would seem we have scrambled eggs and ham with an American biscuit and jam. Some fruit. And also milk, water and orange juice," he sighed. "I miss breakfast in Japan."

"Hospital food isn't always the best, anyway." Yuri sighed, handing the second fork over to his lover.

"They want people to get better, don't they? This wouldn't make anyone well. Is too simple. Good food makes you feel better. I know...I sneak you in some good food for dinner," he smiled taking a bite of ham.

"I was going to suggest a nice dinner date when I get let out of here, actually."

"That can be arranged," Viktor smirked.

"What time is the press conference?" Yuri asked after a moment of silence while they ate the bland meal.

"Is suppose to be around noon. Someone is to fetch me when it is time."

Yuri nodded, "Where is it? Here in the hospital?"

"Yes. Is suppose to be in the lobby I believe, "Viktor replied taking as sip of juice.

Yuri gave a somber nod, "So you won't be gone too long."

"No. It shouldn't take to long. Just let the world know how you are doing. Answer a few questions and then back up here to keep you company."

"Just…come back right away…" he set down his fork and took Viktor's hand, "Right now, I just really want you here at my side."

"I'll come straight back up. I promise."

* * *

To be continued…


End file.
